


take your share

by ollie_oxen_free



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (i guess? its magic bullshit that i made up this is NOT a guide dont treat it as such), (pst hey kit uhhhh eat shit and die), BDSM, Bondage, Branding, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Electricity, F/M, Other, almost forgot that one, fem dom, hm this looked much longer when it was in the notes on my phone, i never have to worry about those though because i commit tax fraud, mentions of TAXES!!!, muffet has 4 arms two normal legs and two SPIDER LEGS, muffyrus - Freeform, probably some unhealthy ways to handle mental illness, this is based on kit's sf muffyrus which is Good Ship and i see that now, this is honestly less about the smut and more about the fact that Dom Muffet is. super hot., unhealthy mindsets, which i thought was cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 14:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20137030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ollie_oxen_free/pseuds/ollie_oxen_free
Summary: Owning a business in a dust-riddled world means Muffet keeps all of her hands rather full. Even so, she manages to make time for him.





	take your share

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Kit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Kit/gifts).

> wrote this in the notes on my phone and didnt edit it whatsoever, fuck all of you
> 
> also this is the first thing ive written in. a couple months i think. wack.
> 
> THIS IS NOT A GUIDE. I MADE ALL THIS MAGIC BULLSHIT UP BECAUSE I FELT LIKE IT. YOUR PARTNER SHOULD NEVER BE UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF DRUGS WHEN IN A SCENE. THIS IS BONES AND A SPIDER FUCKING AND THEREFORE IS NOT BASED ON ANYTHING IN REAL LIFE. PLEASE USE CRITICAL THOUGHT.

Muffet’s at her counter, wiping down the edge of crumbs and spilled drinks, when she sees one of her spiderlings signaling out of the corner of her eyes. She glances down at it, long enough to see the signal before it scurries away to join the others in caring for the cafe. Most have left already at this hour of the night, few of the regulars still sitting with a spiked coffee or any of the more adult drinks she keeps on the menu. Very few stay for long on the days when a royal employee comes to collect taxes for the Empress, and for that she’s grateful. It makes it easier on her workers to care for the remaining patrons when she rubs her chelicerae together, a sharp sound that lets them know that she’s taking a “break.” Some of the larger spiderlings scurry up to stand on the counter, ready to fill orders if need be. 

She brushes off her hands on her apron as she walks through the spider exit, moving up the set of stairs that leads to her room. Before she enters she takes in a deep breath, closing all but one of her eyes, before she lets it out slowly, making sure that any tension or annoyance from the day wouldn’t follow her in. At times Papyrus was more skittish than her spiderlings, and the last thing she needed was for him to teleport off if he thought she was angry. 

She let one of her legs scratch against the door lightly before she twists the knob, stepping into the room and shutting the door quietly behind her. 

Papyrus is sitting on the edge of her bed, already undressed, hunched over in a way that makes him look much smaller than he really is. The tension in his shoulders ebbs slightly as she approaches him, his head tilting to the side. His earbuds are jammed into his head, blaring a heavy, thumping music loud enough that she could hear it as soon as she entered. When she circles around him he keeps his head down so she reaches a hand out, claws carefully circling around his jaw, turning his face to look at her. 

It was a bad day. 

She doesn’t bother to turn off his music, only trailing her claw down his throat, clicking against the bones, resting just above the brand that she has on his chest. He pushes into the touch and she lets him, watching his expression mold into something like want. Gesturing with one hand, she steps back, knowing that he’ll lay across the bed and wait for her until she comes back. She doesn’t intend to make him wait long, crossing the room to get a small box she keeps hidden to the side, carrying it back. 

When she climbs onto the bed on top of him, he opens his sockets, looking at the box with an expression she can’t read. He doesn’t ask so she doesn’t explain, pinning his arms down to stretch above his head as she uses her vestigial legs to pull threat from the base of her back, deftly weaving it through his bones. She ties it tight, looping over the hook she has hidden at the top of her bed. It’s firm around the bones of his arm, dipping into the space between them and curling around the delicate bones of his wrists. Cutting the thread with her hooks, she finishes tying his arms, moving down his body slowly. 

When she glances over his face his features are distant, so she taps him twice on the sternum with her claw, watching him blink and focus back in on her. She smiles, pleased, and he stares back at her with something like relief. In the box there are little white pills, and she pulls out two and presses them to his mouth. He opens and chews them between sharp teeth before swallowing the powder in a way that she knows leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. All the same he sighs and finally, finally relaxes, sockets shutting in a display of trust that draws a pleased chirp from her fangs. 

There’s something in the box that she’s been itching to try, but she pulls herself back in, grabbing his legs and pulling them up, knees bent fully as she ties them in place. When she’s done she moves back, looking at Papyrus tied perfectly in place, stuck and a haze already drifting over his features. She taps his sternum again, twice, waiting until he opens his sockets to pull out her new toy.

They cost her a pretty penny when she had gone to the capital to get them, but it was a penny well spent to see the way his eyes widened and the magic started to trickle down his bones. Magic-powered nodes, intent driven, and she knows by the way he presses down into her that he knows perfectly well what they are.

She moves a thumb over one of them, watching it glow a soft white, before she brings it down over his chest, pressing just between two of his ribs. The reaction is instant. He whines, low, trying to move up into the sensation as a shiver worked across his body, seeming to start at the place where it met him. She lets it sit there, thinking about an electric pain before she lets it go, watching his own magic start to respond. A deep purple rises up in the area to meet the damage, not enough to be serious but enough to hurt, but only makes the surrounding bone more sensitive.

There’s gloves in the box and she slips them on as she watches him squirm, soft pants filling the room beside the faint hum of his music.

When she picks up the orb he opens his eyes, looking at her with a plea, and she inevitably gives him what he wants, hovering just over his spine with it for a fraction of a moment before she lets it press against the cartilage between the bones.

She moves it like that for a while, waiting for a while between each spot, moving it to see a spiderweb of purple traveling through his bones. She hums, a scratchy sound from deep in her throat at the bruises in her marks littered over his form. 

He’s trembling now, a sheen of sweat over his bones, and the cock that he formed some time ago is dripping, painfully hard. He’s at her Mercy and she finally takes pity on him, letting the node stick right onto the mark she branded there so long ago as she takes him into her grip. She pumps him, slow, not bothering to be entirely careful about the scratch of her claws. His hips buck into her hand, once, before he stills himself with a tremble. Eager to please, as always.

When he cums him body locks up and he spills over his spine. She leaves the node there for a moment, still thrumming, before she reaches and pulls it off, drawing her magic out of it until it was once again inactive, dropping it back into the box.

Using her claws, she cuts through the webbing over his body, freeing his limbs and moving his body, nearly limp, to the other side of the bed. She wipes him off and traces a finger over the bruises. They would be easily healed, she knows, green magic a skill she developed after they started these little ‘sessions.’ Instead she just looks at the marks, nothing serious enough to hinder in movement or action, and she appreciates the beauty. Her thumb idly traces the ridges of his skull as he stays limp, not asleep but stuck in the high that she knows he wants to keep.

She watches over him as he rests, form littered with scars and new bruises, and waits. 

On his chest her brand rises and falls with his breathing, a spider surrounded by a web of purple.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](tumblr.com/ollie-oxen-free)


End file.
